The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

ALAYNA’s POV Sarah is dead.Her head rests in my lap, heavy and still like a doll left too long in the rain. I cradle her as best I can, my arms trembling beneath the weight of grief and guilt. Her skin is clammy, pale against the red welts and bruises on her neck and arms. Her lips are slightly parted, as if caught mid-sentence but her breath is long gone.I cannot stop rocking her.Back and forth I go, as though motion might stir her heart again. My tears fall freely onto her face, tracing the path of bloodstains and dirt. With a trembling hand, I smooth back a lock of hair from her temple—tangled, stiff with dried blood and whisper her name.“Sarah, I am sorry.”I do not know how long I stay like that, kneeling on the cold dungeon floor, cradling her ruined body. Torches flicker overhead, casting a wavering orange light on the stone walls but the world feels dim and s

ALAYNA’s POV Golden Eye is here. And he is with Drake.Red, searing pain and black despair. These two colors, these two forms of torture are all I know for the next few seconds. It is not as if I lose sight of the room, it is just that I see it from another angle.To realize that I have been married all along to the enemy, that I was in fact his greatest ally, is too much for me. Death, if it would just involve oblivion, would be more than welcome. But I know there must be a special hell prepared for the one who betrayed Ezra and I.I force my hands still as they tremble against the folds of the curtain and my bare toes curl against the cool marble, trying to anchor me, to stop the rising rage clawing up my throat.How dare he? How dare they?!Golden Eye chuckles low and sharp. “A toast to our victory then.”I hear a slow swirl of whiskey in glasses before they clink. They are drinking and I imagine Drak

ALAYNA’s POV The prisoners had breached the mansion grounds before I even reached it.I push through the shattered front gate of the mansion, once the pride of the Northlands. Now, it groans like a dying animal beneath the weight of chaos.The grand arch that used to gleam with carved wolf sigils is scorched black. The night is truly filled with filth. The stars labour through thick smoke, mixing with the moans of the wails and the fast-spreading crackle of flames.The front lawn is littered with debris and torn banners, the crest of the Nightwalker pack trampled into the mud like it was never worth the blood it took Ezra to earn. The air is thick with fear, not just the scent of it but the sound, too. Screams. Pleading. The sharp crack of whips.I cross into the grand foyer and freeze.The portraits lining the walls, of past alphas and their victories have been slashed to shreds. Miniature marble statues

EZRA’s POV (The event takes place concurrently with Alayna and Drake’s Wedding) There is pain. At first, it is everywhere, heavy and unbearable, and I struggle to return to unconsciousness. But my aching body drags me awake, taking back its many parts, each with its own special hurt: my head throbbing, my arms burning, my back cramping. I open my eyes reluctantly, feeling the sting of light.No.Not lights. The lights, they move, fluttering like fireflies but pulsing brighter and slower, as if aware of their own glow. Strange.Then I sit up. Too fast. Way too fast.Pain crackles across my ribs like dry twigs snapping beneath heavy boots and I take in a painful breath. Damn, it hurts to breathe but the scent that wraps around my senses is so pure I have to wonder if it is real. I place a palm to my sides and inhale again. Lavender, sweet and sharp. There i

COLIN’s POV I sprint through the forest like a man possessed. The vines whip across my face, angry green branches lash at me and my feet pound the damp earth like they owe it money.Behind me? Possibly danger. Or maybe it is just my paranoia chasing after me.I glance back, eyes squinting through the dense foliage and promptly trip over the world’s most obnoxious twig. Gravity latches onto me and I go down in a glorious tangle of limbs.“Ow! Son of a—jungle bush!”My wolf, ever the supportive one grumbles inside my head. ‘Clumsy Colin.’“Shut up, you fur-coated diva,” I mutter, hauling myself up and wiping mud from my face. “You’re the one too princessy to shift.”‘If you hadn’t noticed, we are still very much wounded,’ he snaps. ‘I don’t shift with cracke